


Well-Armed (To Hold)

by wakandan_wardog



Series: Tumblr Shenanigans [4]
Category: Hawkeye & The Winter Soldier, Hawkeye (Comics), Tales of Suspense, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Comic, Established Relationship, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Swearing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakandan_wardog/pseuds/wakandan_wardog
Summary: Tumblr Prompt: "Would you ever write WinterHawk? <3"





	Well-Armed (To Hold)

Awakening from a dead sleep at the sudden awareness that he’s not alone, Bucky snaps his head around and glares at his bedroom door. There’s the distant sound of boots scraping in the next room, which means that JARVIS is piping in the sound or someone’s already been wrecked to tread so heavily. Before he went to bed, he knows the door was closed and therefore he shouldn’t be able to hear it what’s going on in the next room.

A moment later and he hears the doorknob turn and is sitting bolt upright in a moment, a dagger in hand as he glares at whomever dares to infringe upon his territory. In the back of his mind he knows that it has to be an Avenger. If they were under attack JARVIS would sound an alarm, and if the AI were to be under attack he’d wake everyone with an alarm. Still, it isn’t like him to let anyone on Bucky’s floor, he respects boundaries better than anyone.

“Steve, if that’s you I’mma stab you out of spite.” He snarls when the door cracks open, a sliver of ambient light from the sitting area windows arcing in. Right after he says it, he knows that can’t be right. It shouldn’t be Steve, half the team went out on a mission two days ago and none of them should be back yet.

“Not Steve, don’t stab.” The appearing figure mumbles, and Clint slips through a minimal opening and closes the door behind him immediately.

Even so, Bucky can see a hint of white bandages wrapped around the archer’s upper arm and another section curving around his ribs. There’s no shirt, tactical vest or any sort of covering on Clint’s torso, his hair’s a ruffled mess, but he’s still wearing his tac pants and boots. If he had to guess, James would think this means Clint’s injuries were significant enough that he had to go to medical and they half-washed him before turning him loose in the tower. The fact that Tasha didn’t text him to tell him so means that she and Steve and Sam are probably out in the field, and Clint got sent back because of his injuries.

“You got hurt.” He snaps, stowing the knife and pitching off the bedclothes so he can slide out of the bed. “The deal was that you go out and play with my jackass best friend, and you come back to me uninjured.”

“How did you-? Fuck, just when I slid in?” Clint’s tone goes from questioning to complaining as he realizes that the brief flash of light was enough to sell him out. It was, too, more than enough for James to get a good look at just what a mess he was before the near-perfect dark of the bedroom was restored. “Fuckin’ Super Soldier.”

“You come back uninjured and you could be fuckin’ a super soldier.” James bitches as he shuffles over and goes to his knees. “Stand still if you can, lemme get your boots off, you goddamn disaster. You get to give me your report so I know exactly what the damage is and how slowly I gotta kill Stevie.”

“Not Steve’s fault.” Clint offers weakly, his uninjured arm rising to catch on the wall as James approaches. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Steve’s the Commander, he borrowed my goddamn boyfriend on our week off, I get to kick his ass.” James argues, cupping a hand around Clint’s hip before going to his knees in front of the archer.

He knows Clint can’t see him in the dark, bird-sharp eyes or not, but the gesture is still graceful. Knees spread to either side of the archer’s boots, he pauses to glare at the white bandages obscuring his view of Clint’s abs and sighs. Leaning forward to let his forehead brush against the blond’s belly, ignoring how the buckle digs in at his hairline, he relaxes when bow-calloused fingers sink into his hair.

“I’m alright.” Clint murmurs, burying his non-bracing hand in James’s sleep-tousled hair. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“You got shot.” James snaps, tilting his head up enough to lay a punishing bite at the archer’s navel. He knows it’ll make Clint jump so he keeps his hand braced at his boyfriend’s hip and curls the other around Clint’s left calf. “And you fucked up your ribs, didn’t you? That’s why they’re wrapped. Did Helen scold you?”

“Ouch! Ass.” Clint bitches about the bite, fingers yanking at James’s hair. “Yeah she lectured me the whole time she wrapped them. But she x-rayed and they aren’t broken, there’s just a little bruising and maybe a crack or two.”

The way that he says it casually tells Bucky that there is definitely some cracking and makes his jaw tense so he doesn’t say too much. Instead he lets his fingers move to the laces on Clint’s boots, untying them. “My best friend is a dead man.”

“You can’t threaten to maim or murder Steve every time I get hurt.”

“Oh can’t I?” The soldier snaps. “Fucking watch me! Lift.”

Clint sighs, loudly and dramatically like he’s also rolling his eyes, but obediently lifts his foot enough to let James pull the boot away. When the sock is stripped off he groans at the pressure of metal digits against the knot in his calf, sighing when they slide down to rub his foot and then gently ease it back down to the floor. “I can’t defend Steve when you’re working your magic on my sore muscles. You know that.”

“Don’t defend Steve, if he wanted to be in my good graces you would be back to me without injury.” James grumbles. “You good to take weight?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Get the other one off, will you?” Clint grumbles, sighing as his boyfriend makes quick work of the laces and pulls off his last boot and sock. “Fuck that feels so much better.”

“Your calves are tense.” The soldier grumbles, rubbing at the muscle before putting Clint’s foot down and reaching for the belt. “You gonna be able to sleep?”

“You offering to wear me out?” Clint purrs as the tongue of the belt slips free and James’s fingers slide to the button and zipper.

“I think you’re wore out just fine, and you’re medicated and you’re wrapped.” James counters. “I’m taking your damn pants off and then you’re going to bed.”

“Awww, only half of that sounds like fun.”

“You wanted fun, you shoulda come back in one piece.”

“I am in one piece!” Clint’s voice arcs up in indignation.

“Tell that to the blood you left on the battlefield and whatever the fuck you did to your ribs.” James peels the tac pants down and then stands, helping Clint step out of them and shuffle across the room in nothing more than briefs and bandages. “We’re not arguing about this. You’re going to sleep.”

“You’re gonna stay with me though, right?” Clint hates that he sounds so unsure as the soldier gently presses him down onto his side of the bed.

“Course I fucking am, you came back.” The brunet sounds miffed and sleepy once again, his momentary spike of tension eased away as he pulls the blankets over Clint and then climbs in on his side, closer to the door. “I just wish you weren’t hurt.”

“Would be having sex right now if I wasn’t?”

“You know what?” James grumbles, reaching out and curling an arm around Clint’s hips. “Just because I want you to learn your lesson,  _yes_ , yes we would.”

“Awww ribs, no.” Clint whines, snuggling into the hold.

“Yeah, exactly.” The soldier mumbles into the back of his neck, sighing. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Yeah.” Clint smiles in the dark, laying his arm over Bucky’s and lacing their fingers. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> _"Aww Toni, no."_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Toni YES! 8D


End file.
